


Witch Hunt

by yodalorian



Category: Arthurian Mythology & Related Fandoms, Cursed (TV 2020)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern with Magic, Alternate Universe - Urban Fantasy, Enemies to Lovers, F/M, Magic, Prophecy, Witch Hunters
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-30
Updated: 2020-07-30
Packaged: 2021-03-06 05:08:15
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,135
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25617853
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yodalorian/pseuds/yodalorian
Summary: "But something sinister pierced through the overwhelming grief. Nimue became aware that someone else was with her. She turned and saw him, even though tears blurred everything. A hooded shadow, dark and silent...Nimue stared into the face of her mother’s murderer, and for a moment time seemed to slow into a standstill."In a world where magic is dying, Nimue is the last of the witches. After her mother's murder, she is relentlessly hunted down by a witchkiller who is only known as the Weeping Monk. Alone and on the run, Nimue must learn to control her newfound powers and survive.
Relationships: Nimue & Squirrel | Percival (Cursed), Nimue & The Weeping Monk | Lancelot & Squirrel | Percival (Cursed), Nimue/The Weeping Monk | Lancelot (Cursed), Squirrel | Percival & The Weeping Monk | Lancelot (Cursed)
Comments: 6
Kudos: 35





	Witch Hunt

**Author's Note:**

> updates will be sporadic, i just wanted to get the beginning out

Nimue could already sense that something was very, very wrong. Dread settled deep in her bones. She brushed her sweaty hair out of her face and quickened her pace.

Not that the rest of today had been good. Work at the grocery store had been miserable drudgery, like always, and lucky for her, her ancient car had broken down. She had been forced to walk home under the blazing afternoon sun.

Part of her wanted to just turn and run from whatever was waiting for her. But something seemed to be dragging her endlessly forward.

As Nimue turned the corner onto her street, she could already see that the front door was barely clinging onto its hinges. Someone, or something, had forced its way in. She glanced around, but nobody else seemed to have noticed. Then again, her neighbors seemed to ignore her house as much as they could. They were unsettled by the strange things that happened around it. The night when a pack of wolves appeared at sunset and prowled the lawn until sunrise. The time an old gnarled oak tree had sprouted in front, somehow overnight. The days when rain storms brewed and died, never leaving the roof.

She broke into a run, fear clutching at her heart. The door creaked slightly as she approached. Inside, it looked like a hurricane had blown through. Chairs were overturned and splintered, and flower pots lay shattered, spilling their innards onto the floor. There were even stranger things too: thorny vines that wove through the walls, blackened scorch marks that streaked across the floor tiles. Long, deep gashes ran through the wallpaper. Nimue’s blood chilled as dark red stains began to join them the further she ventured inside.

“Mom?” she croaked out. She clapped her hand over her mouth. Too late, she realized that whatever had done this might still be here. A feeble groan answered her from the living room.

Her heart fell into the pit of her stomach as she entered. Her mother lay, sprawled in a pool of blood, next to the gutted couch. 

“No, no, no, no, no.” It was all Nimue could do, whispering that word to herself, as if it could somehow undo this. Cold tears began streaming down her face as she sank down next to the only person she had, the only person that cared about her.

“Nimue…” Every breath rattled Lenore like it was the hardest thing she had ever done. She weakly raised a hand, brushing scarlet across Nimue’s cheek. “I’m sorry....I never…”

Nimue shook her head, unable to say anything. She clutched her mother, feeling like she would drown if she let go.

Lenore gasped. “Find...find…” She was unable to choke out anything more. Her dying words numbly passed over Nimue, shaking with sobs as she held her mother. She felt the life seep out of Lenore and the body grow cold in her arms. 

But something sinister pierced through the overwhelming grief. Nimue became aware that someone else was with her. She turned and saw him, even though tears blurred everything. A hooded shadow, dark and silent. A sword gleamed dangerously in one hand, dripping with blood. A torch burned in the other. The hood shrouded his face in shadow, but she could just make out cold, gray-blue eyes that bore into her. His cheeks were streaked with gray tattoos, as if stained by tears.

Nimue stared into the face of her mother’s murderer, and for a moment time seemed to slow into a standstill.

He moved forward, like a predator cornering his prey. The torch fell from his hand, and flames began to lick up the carpet. Acrid, choking smoke filled the air. His blade swung towards her.

Nimue barely managed to stumble backwards out of his reach, slipping on the blood-streaked ground. She just wanted to lie down and drown in her grief, but he wouldn’t let her. He advanced, flames leaping in his wake, the walls crumbling into ash.

The heat was quickly becoming suffocating, but Nimue still felt like her insides had turned to ice. Her mother was dead, and she saw no way out. She was going to die here, slain by this man’s cruel blade.

Desperation and grief swirled and mixed, deep inside her. Suddenly something was roaring inside her, like her emotions had hatched a monster. The fire roared higher and the man’s sword swung towards her neck. Nimue felt helpless, like she was losing control of her body, as a scream exploded out of her. The last things she saw were the flames flattened by a wind that had erupted from nowhere and the cloaked man thrown back. Then, everything collapsed around her, and the darkness took her.

* * *

Nimue didn’t want to wake up. She was wet and cold and everything hurt. She just wanted to fall asleep again. Something vaguely uncomfortable tugged on the edges of her mind.

She groaned and opened her eyes. The sun was sinking towards the horizon. The evening air was cool on her face. Why was she outside?

It came flooding back to her. The nightmare that she had desperately hoped was just a nightmare. Her mother was dead. She was dead. No. Somehow, she wasn’t. Something had stopped that cloaked man from killing her. Now that she wasn’t fighting for her life, questions began to spin through her head.

Nimue looked around for him, but he had vanished. She was lying alone in a field of rubble, splintered beams and shattered glass. With a jolt, she realized this was what was left of her house.

Sirens wailed in the distance. Even her neighbors couldn’t ignore a house exploding. She probably needed medical attention, but she didn’t want the scrutiny that would come with it. She just wanted to get away.

Nimue tried to move and hissed in pain. Her legs were pinned under a piece of the second floor. Frustration welled up inside of her, and suddenly, the rubble shifted and fell off of her, by itself. It was bizarre, but Nimue didn’t have time to contemplate it. She scrambled to her feet. Miraculously, she could still walk. She stumbled away from the destroyed house, heading for the forested hills that stretched beyond her backyard. She had no idea where she would go, but now she just needed some place to disappear into.

The wind whispered through the leaves as she threw herself gratefully into their shade. She pressed deeper into the impenetrable tangle, where she somehow knew she wouldn’t be found. Just as her house disappeared through the branches, Nimue glanced back. A thick cloud of smoke still hung over the site. For a fleeting second, she thought she saw the flickering flames illuminate a face from the dark smoke. A face weeping dark tears.

**Author's Note:**

> follow me on [twitter](https://twitter.com/jedioncer?lang=en)  
> to hear me yell about other dumb things


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